He then said to me, “As you walk through this door now you are not walk-
ing on 72nd Street, you are walking on palm lined streets, coconut lined
streets; this is Barbados. Do not ask me how you are going to go. You are
in Barbados. You do not say 'how' when you 'are there.' You are there.
Now you walk as though you were there.
I went out of his place in a daze. I am in Barbados. I have no money, I
have no job, I am not even well clothed, and yet I am in Barbados.
He was not the kind of person with whom you would argue, not Abdullah.
Two weeks later I was no nearer my goal than on the day I first told him I
wanted to go to Barbados. I said to him, “Ab, I trust you implicitly but
here is one time I cannot see how it is going to work. I have not one pen-
ny towards my journey,” I began to explain.
You know what he did? He was as black as the ace of spades, my old
friend Abdullah, with his turbaned head. As I sat in his living room he rose
from his chair and went towards his study and slammed the door, which
was not an invitation to follow him. As he went through the door he said
to me, “I have said all that I have to say.”
On the 3rd of December I stood before Abdullah and told him again I was
no nearer my trip. He repeated his statement, “You are in Barbados.”
The very last ship sailing for Barbados that would take me there for the
reason I wanted to go, which was to be there for Christmas, sailed at
noon on December 6th, the old Nerissa.
On the morning of December 4th, having no job, having no place to go, I
slept late. When I got up there was an air mail letter from Barbados under
my door. As I opened the letter a little piece of paper flickered to the floor.
I picked it up and it was a draft for $50.00.
The letter was from my brother Victor and it read, “I am not asking you to
come, Neville, this is a command. We have never had a Christmas when
all the members of our family were present at the same time. This Christ-
mas it could be done if you would come.”
My oldest brother Cecil left home before the youngest was born and then
we started to move away from home at different times so never in the
history of our family were we ever all together at the same time.
The letter continued, “You are not working, I know there is no reason why
you cannot come, so you must be here before Christmas. The enclosed
$50.00 is to buy a few shirts or a pair of shoes you may need for the trip.
You will not need tips; use the bar if you are drinking. I will meet the ship